


Flare

by renquise



Category: VIXX
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 02:58:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3233735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renquise/pseuds/renquise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a good stage, Hakyeon always feels like he can't quite fit back in the bounds of his body. The stage is all hot, blinding lights, and the six of them beat-perfect, and the fans roaring and chanting and reaching back. It's so, so heady, and he knows that it'll linger for hours after, vibrating in his chest and coursing through his limbs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flare

After a good stage, Hakyeon always feels like he can't quite fit back in the bounds of his body. The stage is all hot, blinding lights, and the six of them beat-perfect, and the fans roaring and chanting and reaching back. It's so, so heady, and he knows that it'll linger for hours after, vibrating in his chest and coursing through his limbs. 

They come off-stage so they can switch out their mikes for the encore, and Hakyeon doesn't want to stop moving, wants to touch everybody around him and drape himself over them and kiss a lot of people.

Taekwoon is kind of the same, only people tend to notice more: he's chatty and easy with touch, squeezing the back of Sanghyuk's neck playfully and tapping his fingers against Sanghyuk's shoulder, still singing under his breath. Sanghyuk bounces on the balls of his feet and sings along, and makes an attempt at looking long-suffering for all of two seconds when he sees Hakyeon looking at them.

Taekwoon catches Hakyeon's glance from across the hallway. He grins wide, and something in Hakyeon's chest swells, bigger and hotter than he thinks his body can contain right now.

“Come on, come on,” Hakyeon says, when they're ready, and slings his arms around Wonshik's waist and pulls them back onstage, back to the fans. He watches Taekwoon sing and sing and sing, and he feels like he could spill out of his skin and be all light.

 

They don't often get the chance to act on it. Hakyeon usually has to content himself with kissing Taekwoon swift and hot in a backstage bathroom, Taekwoon's hands on any exposed skin he can reach, finding the sweat in the hollow of Hakyeon's throat and his wrists under his sleeves and the dip in his spine where his shirt is soaked through, Taekwoon's touch vibrating with energy. 

Hakyeon has given a thought to dropping to his knees then and there, about the sounds that Taekwoon might make with Hakyeon's mouth on him and every bit of stage adrenaline in his veins, but they only have a few seconds before they have to tumble back out, untangle themselves from their mike cords and get themselves sorted again for the hi-touch. There's people to thank and other responsibilities to take care of, and Hakyeon knows they can't do it, but. But he thinks about it a lot.

Wonshik gave him a knowing look when Hakyeon handed everyone their hotel room keys earlier in the day. "Oh, good, Hongbin doesn't beat me with pillows while I'm trying to sleep," he said, taking the keycard.

Hakyeon whapped his arm and chided him, saying, ahh, no respect at all for your leader and his beauty sleep. And then, more quietly, dropping his hand to squeeze Wonshik's elbow lightly: thanks.

Wonshik ducked his head, a little red-eared and awkward but smiling, and didn't ask any questions.

In the car on the way back to the hotel, Hakyeon can't seem to sit still. He twists around in his seat to poke at Jaehwan's cheeks so that he squinches up his face cutely and sets Hongbin to giggling again, and tells them all that they were good, so good, and loves every face that Sanghyuk makes when he says, hyung, you're so embarrassing.

Hakyeon catches Taekwoon looking at him from across the car and grins. Taekwoon looks at him steadily and blinks back at him. 

Then, another wave of joy seems to catch at him, and he ducks his head, but Hakyeon can still glimpse his wide smile and his crinkled eyes and the flushed tips of his ears.

Hakyeon feels it like a punch to the chest, suddenly breathless, wordless with how much he likes Taekwoon.

(He likes Taekwoon a lot already, but Taekwoon like this is incandescent.)

He shoves his seatbelt aside and leans across the car to fling his arms around Taekwoon's shoulders and shake him a little, because he can't begin to say all the things he wants to say right now. Taekwoon doesn't even try to wriggle out of his grasp.

"You were so cool, Leo! So cool." he says, squeezing Taekwoon's shoulders.

"Mm," Taekwoon says. He's still smiling, and he brings his hand up to rest the tips of his fingers on Hakyeon's arm. It's cold outside, but Taekwoon is warm all the way to his fingertips, flushed with adrenaline and energy, and the tips of his fingers feel burning hot on Hakyeon's arm. It gives Hakyeon shivers all over.

 

The elevator at the hotel might be the slowest in the world. Hakyeon punches at the door closing button when it stops, again, and then leans against Taekwoon's side and hooks their arms together. 

He can feels the shift of Taekwoon's body under his clothes, and he can't be sure if the humming along his own skin is the low vibration of the elevator or if it's just him. He leans his head into Taekwoon's shoulder and hears Taekwoon exhale a soft, restless puff of breath.

Some part of him kind of likes it, likes the sweet tension of waiting, likes seeing Taekwoon's tongue dart out to wet his lips.

Everyone peels off to their own rooms, and he makes sure to distribute pats to everyone's backs and thank their manager for his hard work. His fingers fumble a bit on the keycard when he comes to their door, and he knows Taekwoon is waiting at his shoulder—he's not even touching, his arms hanging loose at his sides, but Hakyeon can feel him right there, inches away, and it seems like it takes absolutely forever for the door lock to blink green.

Hakyeon kicks off his shoes at the door and nudges the door closed with his shoulder and jumps on Taekwoon, his arms around Taekwoon's neck and his legs around Taekwoon's waist and his face pushed into Taekwoon's hair, and he can't stop smiling and smiling.

Taekwoon makes a surprised noise and staggers back, tipping onto one of the beds and landing with a flump, the mattress bouncing under them. Hakyeon lands sprawled on him, Taekwoon's hands high on his thighs.

Hakyeon pushes into his touch, rolling his hips. "Taekwoon-ie," he says, propping himself up on his elbows on Taekwoon's chest and grinning. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Taekwoon says. He bites his lip around his smile. His lips are plush and pink and his cheeks are still flushed from the cold outside. Hakyeon feels happiness bubble up in his chest.

He mashes his mouth against Taekwoon's, tugging at the zipper of Taekwoon's soft after-show hoodie, and feels Taekwoon's hands tighten around his thighs, the tips of Taekwoon's long fingers along the inner seam of his jeans.

Taekwoon kisses differently when they do this, wet and kind of messy and joyful instead of slow and focused, and his hands can't seem to settle, plucking at the collar of Hakyeon's shirt and grasping at his shoulders. He can feel Taekwoon already half-hard against him, and he wonders if Taekwoon's been like that ever since they kissed backstage and somehow managed to hide it.

He pulls his mouth away from Taekwoon's and straightens to strip off his shirt, arching his back when Taekwoon's hands curl around his hips, because it makes the line of his stomach look really good when he does that. He runs his hands down his bare chest, tipping his head to the side to show the length of his neck.

"Did I look nice tonight?" he says, pitching his voice low.

Taekwoon's eyes are steady on him, his thumb tracing the edge of his hip and his lips parted and wet, so Hakyeon can guess that, yeah, he looks pretty hot.

Taekwoon moves his hand up and pokes him hard in the side, and Hakyeon squeaks and almost keels over.

"Hey!" he says indignantly, slapping Taekwoon's arm.

"You know you did," Taekwoon says, completely unrepentant and grinning.

"Well, some of us like to hear it," he says, crossing his arms over his chest. "Tell me I look good."

"N is pretty," Taekwoon says flatly, though he can't seem to keep his smile under control—it keeps on creeping out along the edges, his lips pressed together and the corners of his mouth lifting.

"Yah, how do I put up with you," Hakyeon says. Very sternly. Definitely not smiling back at Taekwoon. "Again, again, and do it right this time."

Taekwoon like this is himself, only more so, physical and handsy, and he yanks Hakyeon down and wrestles them over so that they're lying against each other in the covers, their legs tangled together. Hakyeon laughs into his skin, delighted, and pushes his hands up Taekwoon's shirt.

"Pretty," Taekwoon whispers in his ear, soft and cheeky as hell. He slides his hand between them to pop the button of Hakyeon's jeans.

Hakyeon swallows hard. "Ah, that's more like it," he says. He can feel Taekwoon hard against him, and he likes that, likes knowing that he does this to Taekwoon.

Taekwoon flattens his hand against the line of Hakyeon's dick through his jeans, and Hakyeon makes a small noise and rolls his hips into his touch, grabbing at Taekwoon's clothes because he really needs to touch Taekwoon all over right now.

He manages to get Taekwoon's jeans off more or less gracefully, drawing his hands down Taekwoon's strong thighs along the way. Hakyeon is almost kind of conflicted about tugging Taekwoon's shirt all the way off, too, because oh, he looks so good like this, with his shirt pushed up around his armpits and a pink flush all down his chest and his dick curving up against his belly. Hakyeon bites his lip and presses his hand to it, curling his hand around his dick and stroking, the skin tight and hot. Taekwoon sucks in a breath, the muscles in his belly tightening, and pushes up into Hakyeon's hand.

His own jeans need to come off, like, right now, though. He manages to shimmy most of the way out of them with Taekwoon's help and then kick them the rest of the way off, his feet tangling in the legs and his socks and underwear coming off with them.

Taekwoon grabs at him as soon as he's kicked them aside and pushes his face into the side of Hakyeon's neck. Hakyeon has to stop himself from raising his shoulders and squirming out of reach, because the touch of Taekwoon's lips to the skin under his jaw alone makes him jump and laugh. When Taekwoon sucks lightly at his pulse, it makes him gasp and shudder all over and grind up against the crease of Taekwoon's hip.

“Oh, oh, ” he says, breathless, his fingers grasping at Taekwoon's hair. “Do that again. Again.”

Taekwoon's tongue is wet and hot against his throat, and Hakyeon can't help but let out a sound that's half laugh, half shuddery gasp. He grabs at Taekwoon's hips and pulls him impossibly closer, feeling the slide of Taekwoon's dick against his belly, and nudges at Taekwoon's cheek with his nose so that he can catch his mouth again. 

They never really get any further than their hands on each other after shows, too high on every bit of touch to try for anything more complicated. Honestly, that's totally fine with Hakyeon. He's so, so okay with just pressing himself full-length to Taekwoon's skin.

Hakyeon comes too fast, because everything is completely overwhelming and wonderful. It hits him like a punch, his whole body jolting and his mouth open soundlessly against Taekwoon's skin, and he clutches at Taekwoon's shoulders to ride it out. When he slits his eyes open again, Taekwoon is looking at him with wide eyes, so open and intent that it's almost too much.

But it's better like this, because it means he can curl his hand around Taekwoon's dick to stroke him off and watch his focused look fall away as his head lolls back and his hips buck into Hakyeon's hand.  

When Taekwoon comes, it's with a shout that sounds joyful, reckless, and Hakyeon loves everything, everything, everything about it. He fits his mouth to Taekwoon's and feels his breath shiver with aftershocks.

"You were so good tonight, Taekwoon-ie," Hakyeon croons between kisses. "Amazing. Beautiful."

He's smiling so hard that he can't really kiss Taekwoon properly, but so is Taekwoon, so it's fine.

"You said that already," Taekwoon says. He stretches under Hakyeon's touch, his long body languid and his fingers curling and uncurling.

"Well, too bad, you get to hear me say it twice," Hakyeon says, drawing his hand down Taekwoon's flank and prodding his side. “You know, this is usually the point at which you should say nice things about me.”

“Do I have to?” Taekwoon says, batting away his fingers and fending off any further attempts.

“Terrible,” Hakyeon says. He gives up on the prodding, having lost the element of surprise. “Absolutely terrible. Yes, you do.” He aims a lazy chop at Taekwoon's neck. Taekwoon fends that one off, too, catching his hand and twining their fingers together briefly.

“Okay," Taekwoon says. “Fine.” It's his thoughtful tone, though, like he's considering what to say.

Hakyeon folds his hands on Taekwoon's chest and props his chin on them to wait him out.

It takes a few more seconds, but Taekwoon looks away from the ceiling and into his eyes, looking at him steadily. "You were really good. Your dancing was sharp, and you were good with the fans. They really liked you," Taekwoon says, simple and straightforward and sincere.

 _They really liked you._ The words glow under Hakyeon's skin so fiercely that he just has to duck his head and breathe. Just for a second. _(I really liked you.)_

Taekwoon's hands come up to hold his face, his long fingers fitted along the line of Hakyeon's jaw, and his eyes are so bright.

"Thanks," Hakyeon says, at last. He bends to kiss Taekwoon, his hands carefully poised on his chest, and lets Taekwoon tilt his face into the kiss, Taekwoon's mouth soft and electric.

"Ugh, we both need a shower," he says, then. They're both going to crash soon, he can tell. Hakyeon swings his legs over the edge of the bed and pushes himself upright.

Taekwoon makes a lazy noise of protest and rolls over.

"Come on, come on," Hakyeon says. He grabs Taekwoon's arms to drag him out of the covers.

Taekwoon responds by going limp and resisting all attempts to dislodge his body from the bed. Hakyeon finally succeeds in half-dragging him onto the floor, along with most of the covers, at which point Taekwoon sighs and finally stands up, making sure to wordlessly emphasize that he is doing this under great duress.

He ushers Taekwoon into the bathroom and turns on the shower, waiting for it to warm up before he climbs in and tugs Taekwoon in after him.

Hakyeon takes longer to get ready for bed than Taekwoon does, likes the kind of ritual and regularity that it lends to the day, and Taekwoon is already firmly ensconced in bed when he comes back into the room.

Taekwoon after a shower is soft and touchable, all long, lax limbs draped over as much of the bed area as possible, his face pushed into the pillows. Hakyeon comes to stand by his bed and flattens his hand over Taekwoon's smooth, dark hair. It's still a little damp from the shower.

Taekwoon mutters something and pushes his head into Hakyeon's hand. He already sounds half-asleep.

Hakyeon lifts his hand away. Taekwoon rolls his head towards him, his eyes still half-lidded when he slowly blinks them open. He aims a lazy swipe towards Hakyeon's hand and takes hold of it, tugging at his arm, and Hakyeon lets himself be pulled in, falling onto the bed.

He settles by Taekwoon and tucks himself into the line of his body, arranging Taekwoon's limbs around him to his satisfaction.

Taekwoon sighs into his neck, and Hakyeon feels a nice shiver go down his spine. Not as electric and urgent as before, but still enough to spark his nerves.

Taekwoon lifts a hand off his waist, and Hakyeon tilts his head back to see him massage the back of his own neck.

"Ahh, do you have that singing headache?" Hakyeon asks. He rolls over in Taekwoon's loose hold and bats Taekwoon's hands away, and then digs his thumbs into the curve of his neck, smoothing along the muscles.

"Mm," Taekwoon says. He sounds quietly blissed out, his head dropping to his chest, so that Hakyeon can only see the mussed black of his hair. There's something about the neat cut of his hair at his nape that reaches into Hakyeon's chest and squeezes tight.

“Yah, you should tell me when you get them,” Hakyeon says. He lowers his voice to match Taekwoon's because it feels right, soft voices for this cocoon of white sheets and blankets and mushy hotel bed and Taekwoon's familiar skin under his hands.

Taekwoon makes another noise that might be agreement or might just be some vague acknowledgement that Hakyeon is still talking.

Hakyeon doesn't mind. He keeps talking, quietly, about nothing in particular.


End file.
